rain pours and closet doors • River Phoenix

entry three

March 28th, 1988

torture

Saturn died March 25th, 1988. I know what it feels like to loose someone you love. However, this experience was rather torture then mourn.

I haven't seen Weather in some time, I ponder how shes doing. I would see her on the contrary, if I could have an hour to myself.

You see, ever since Saturn's death, I've had trouble finding myself.

I've found myself rummaging through Robs old cigarette packages, and stealing bottles of liquor from the fridge.

The three days I have lived with my apprehensions, I've come to known that Saturn was a large part in my people circling abyss.

She certainly did make it go round.

I must admit I have not left the shallows of my bed sheets, the only company is this pen, and the gargantuan bore hanging above my bed frame.

There is one more topic that I'd like to expatiate about, and that's the night I spent with Weather.

Have I thought the amount of joy and lust I felt for her that night affect my love for her now, would I've done it sooner.

The complete touch of her skin lit flames in me that I didn't know existed, her sex left me afire.

Her pure fingertips groomed my hair, leaving chills down my spine.

In fact just thinking about it now gives me horripilation.

Her lips soft and savory, left marks down my neck.

I love her, and I'm not sure anyone could express such feelings towards another in any different way.